


Do It For Yesterday

by killmetatron



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, College, Hipster Castiel, M/M, Nerd Dean, Sexual Content, slow build romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-01 02:35:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killmetatron/pseuds/killmetatron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas is a bit of a hipster who appreciates a good latte and floral Dr. Martens. Dean is a bit of a geek who has watched the Star Wars original trilogy about a hundred times and won’t listen to anything other than classic rock. </p><p>They meet, they fuck, they try not to become friends.</p><p>But it’s hard to fuck your roommate without getting to know him a little bit, and once you get to know someone, bad things happen. Bad things like feelings, which are not involved in this story. Never ever. Dean and Cas do not like each other.</p><p>Or at least they try not to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Moving Day

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a post made by Mari at http://holyfrackles.tumblr.com/

Moving day at last! Castiel was unbelievably excited for his freshman year at Carver Edlund University. When he came on a tour last year, Cas had fallen in love with the school for its English and philosophy programs, and he intended to double major in those exact subjects. Cas pulled out his gold iPhone 5s to check his email and find the message that had his room information. He skimmed the email and found his room number. 522. A quick glance before closing the email reminded him that his roommate’s name was Dean Winchester. Cas hoped Dean wouldn’t be too obnoxious. Cas didn’t get along well with most people his age. He found them dull and kind of annoying. He constantly stated that most people his age weren’t capable of thinking for themselves, and just spewed back whatever information they had managed to sop up over the years, never questioning it or bothering to learn more about the world around them. He didn’t dare to let himself hope for a cool roommate. Cas was kind of a loner and liked it that way, but hoped that he would meet some cool people in his classes so he’d at least have someone to hang out with occasionally. Maybe he’d even find someone to date.

Cas headed up to his room, pushing a cart loaded with his old-fashioned trunk and two worn-out vintage duffel bags. All three pieces of luggage were filled with his clothing, music, and a few extra touches he had brought from home to make his dorm livable. Cas made his bed first and then, since it was hot in the dorm, he took his knit scarf off and hung it around his bedpost. He rolled up the long sleeves of his thin v-neck pullover and sat on the foot of his bed, looking around the room and deciding where to hang his posters and such.

Just then, he heard the door opening, and turned to see a clumsy-looking and disheveled boy in thick-rimmed glasses and a Star Wars graphic tee coming through the door with a clean black rolling suitcase and a brand new looking duffel bag slung over his muscular shoulder. The boy pushed his glasses up his freckle-spotted nose with his index finger and extended the other hand.

“Hi,” he said, “I’m Dean Winchester. I’m your roommate.”

“Castiel Novak,” replied Cas, shaking Dean’s hand. He sized Dean up, looking him up and down. He wasn’t bad looking. Maybe Cas would get lucky and he’d be gay so he could fuck him once or twice.

“So...” said Dean after a second. Cas laughed. This kid was pretty socially awkward, but at least he was easy on the eyes.

“So I claimed this bed, but that one’s yours, Skywalker,” Cas said, pointing to the empty bed. Dean’s face lit up.

“You know Star Wars?” he asked, hopeful.

“Kind of,” laughed Cas, “I watched it ironically.” He adjusted his beanie and watched Dean as he looked down at his feet and headed over to his bed to put his duffel down. Dean and Castiel unpacked in silence for a few minutes.

“So, what’s your story?” asked Cas after a while.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Tell me about yourself. I should know a little about the person I’ll be sleeping wi- I mean, sharing a room with.” Cas cursed quietly and tried to play it off as awkwardness and not the huge fucking Freudian slip it was, but the look on Dean’s face told him that subtlety was out the window.

“Oh, uh, I’m eighteen and from Lawrence, Kansas. Raised by a single dad. I have a little brother who’s just starting high school. Mom died when I was little. Uh, I don’t know. I like Star Wars and classic rock and video games. I play a lot of F.E.A.R. and Halo. I guess I like shooting games? I don’t know. I like pie, too. Um...I think that’s it. What about you, Castiel?”

“Eighteen, I’ve lived all over the place. My dad left a while ago, so my older brothers raised me mostly. I like lattes and music you’ve probably never heard of if you only listen to classic rock. I like indie movies and poetry. Uh, I’m queer. I don’t know. That’s about it. Oh, and you can call me Cas. Most people do.”

“You’re gay?” asked Dean.

“Well, I identify as pansexual, but I guess that makes me, like, part gay. Is that gonna be a problem?”

“No,” said Dean, “I’m bi.”

“Oh,” said Cas, “That’s cool.”

Score.

Once Cas and Dean were unpacked, they busied themselves decorating their sides of the room. Cas finished first, and sat down on the floor with his back against the side of his bed. The wall above his bed was littered with a collage of ticket stubs from plays and movies he had been to and enjoyed, record sleeves from his favorite vinyl albums, and old polaroids he had taken of spots he had liked on his travels around the country. Dean’s wall looked bare by comparison as he hung up the final picture. His display was a neat row of three posters (Star Wars, Harry Potter, and Star Trek, in that order) and an orderly column of three frameless pictures by the head of his bed (Dean and a younger boy Cas assumed was his brother, the same boy smiling next to what appeared to be a science project, and a boy around the age of four being held by a kind looking blonde woman). 

“Who’s the woman and kid?” asked Cas.

“What?”

“In the picture,” Cas clarified, pointing.

“Oh,” said Dean, suddenly looking sad, “That’s me and my mom. A couple days before she died.”

“Oh,” replied Cas, uncomfortable, “That sucks, man. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Dean said, sitting up straight to avoid looking as upset as he was, “It was fourteen years ago. I’ve kinda gotten used to not having her around, you know?” Dean looked back down at his feet, wiggling his toe in and out of the small hole in his plain white sock.

“Yeah,” said Cas, deciding to change the subject despite that fact that he knew all too well that the wound left by an absent parent isn’t one that ever truly disappears. He glanced up from his spot on the floor to look at Dean, and noticed a silent tear forming in his eye. Shit.

“Hey, look man, I’m sorry...” started Cas, but Dean dismissed his apology with a quick wave of his hand.

“It’s fine, it’s cool, you didn’t know. No chick flick moments, alright?”

Cas chucked softly at Dean’s joke, and he looked at the freckled boy’s jaw as it clenched. Suddenly, he knew exactly what he wanted to do to change the subject.  
“Alright, deal. How about a different kind of moment then?”

Dean looked up, confused, as Cas stood up and approached him. He sat right next to Dean on the bed, their legs touching from knee to hip, and hooked his foot around Dean’s calf. He lifted his hand up and turned Dean’s face towards his, bringing his bright pink lips to rest on Dean’s suddenly flustered smile.

They kissed for a while, and soon they were lying on Dean’s bed with their shirts off, and Dean was kissing the angel wing tattoos on Cas’ shoulder blades. His mouth wandered up to the back of Cas’ neck, and Cas turned around to kiss Dean on the lips again. Cas rubbed Dean’s dick through his jeans and Dean moaned loudly. Cas unbuttoned his own pants and slid them off as Dean mirrored the motion. Their bulging erections were even more obvious with only their boxers between them, and soon the boxers were gone too. Cas glanced down, suddenly craving Dean’s dick.

“Hey, want a blow job?” he asked.

Dean nodded eagerly, a look that clashed so adorably with his sheepish grin.

Cas snaked his way down the bed and wrapped his mouth greedily around Dean’s swollen cock. He bobbed his head up and down, humming softly, and Dean’s moans grew louder. Cas pinched him and shot him a look, and Dean quieted himself down. Cas continued to suck and lick until Dean came in his mouth. Cas swallowed all of the semen and smiled up at Dean.

“My turn,” he said.

“Do you have a condom? I have a better idea,” replied Dean with a wink.

Cas flashed Dean a grin and grabbed a lubricated condom from his drawer, sliding it on to his hard penis as he made his way back to the bed. Dean was already on all fours, ready for Cas to slide in. Cas pushed himself into Dean softly at first, but once he was in he started to thrust harder.

“Shit, Cas, a little softer...” whispered Dean.

Cas obliged, and they found a rhythm they both enjoyed. When Cas eventually orgasmed, they were both panting and exhausted. Cas threw the condom in the trash (wrapped in a wad of tissues so nobody coming into their room would see it) and they both got dressed. They avoided eye contact as Dean picked up a book and Cas slid on a pair of brown loafers.

“I’m gonna go get some chow...” he mumbled.

Dean nodded, and Cas left for the dining hall. As soon as he was out of the room and the door was closed behind him, he smiled. College was going to be fun.


	2. Phone Call

After that, the first night of college was pretty much what Cas had expected. He went to the dining hall and found some other confused-looking freshmen to sit with and they talked about their shitty music taste while he ate in silence. He didn’t need to hear about annoying, repetitive Top 40 hits; he had gotten enough of that in high school. 

After he ate, he decided to go for a walk to clear his head a little, and maybe call his brothers. He found a bench in a fairly secluded area and pulled out his iPhone.

He sat back in the bench to get comfy while it rang.

“Hello?” said a familiar voice.

“Hey Gabe,”

“Cassie! How’s my baby bro doing at college?” Cas could hear his other brothers in the background yelling to each other that it was him on the phone.

“Alright, I guess. The food is alright and my roommate is bearable. Oh, and guess wha-”

“Awesome! Listen, we were just heading out, but call again soon, okay?”

“Oh, alright,” said Cas. He was used to his brothers heading out together pretty much every night. It didn’t really hurt his feelings anymore. He knew they just liked to party.

“Bye, Cas. Take care of yourself, you hear?”

“You too, Gabriel.”

He heard the click on the other end that meant Gabriel had hung up.

Cas sighed softly and started wandering back towards the dorm. He kind of hoped Dean would be asleep when he got back. He didn’t feel much like talking. He took his time on the walk back, looking at the trees and people watching. He liked observing people when they didn’t think anyone was watching. That’s when he could get a real view of who people are. He liked to watch their mannerisms and use them to imagine backstories for each person he passed. When he reached his dorm, he was in the middle of imagining a dramatic blowout between an arguing couple he had passed. He continued to put words in their mouths as he rode the elevator up to the fifth floor. He walked down the hall to room 522 and opened the door.

Dean was sprawled across his bed with a fancy state-of-the-art laptop playing some game when Cas entered. Cas could hear the intense music and gunfire from the game despite Dean’s gigantic gaming headphones, and he involuntarily rolled his eyes a little. Cas didn’t understand the appeal of violent video games and didn’t care to. He didn’t like video games much at all, really, except classic games like Pac-Man and Tetris. Cas quickly changed into a pair of sweatpants and a gigantic shirt from some band that was so underground that the actual members of the band probably hadn’t even heard of it.

Cas sat on his bed for a while playing with his phone, and before he knew it, he looked up and it was pitch black outside. It was his first night at college, and he knew he should be out meeting people and partying, but he really didn’t feel much like socializing. He vowed to meet people tomorrow, and then crawled under the covers. Right now, he just needed sleep.

“Hey, Dean, can you turn off the light?”

No response.

“Hey Dean...”

Nothing.

“DEAN.”

“Huh?” Dean put his headphones around his neck and looked across the room at his sleepy roommate.

“Can you turn off the light?”

“Oh, uh, yeah sure,” said Dean, rolling his sweatshirt sleeves up as he rolled off his bed in a manner that was somehow both suave and casual. He walked the few steps to the light switch and flicked it, and the room was dark. Cas listened as Dean stumbled back to the bed, much less suave in the dark, and resumed his game. The light of the screen shone on Dean’s bright green eyes.

Cas found himself smiling, somehow comforted by having Dean in the room. He shook his head, shaking the thoughts out. Dean was nothing to smile over. Just a roommate. There was nothing about him to smile over. Cas vowed right then not to let any feelings get involved in his relationship with Dean, but those bright green eyes were still the last thing on his mind before he drifted off to sleep.


	3. Coffee Break

Days passed and classes started. Dean was taking a heavy course load, so the two boys didn’t see each other too often, especially since Dean’s free time during the day was mostly spent in the library and Cas’ free time at night was mostly spent out partying with his new friends. Cas found that college people were much more sophisticated and accepting than his peers in high school had been, and he was glad about that. He spent a lot of his time getting stoned in his friend’s dorms or going to various arts events around campus. Dean, meanwhile, sat in the library and did homework or studied alone in their room. Being there on as much financial aid as Dean was meant that he had to work hard and maintain a great GPA or he could be kicked out, and he knew he could never face going home a failure. Their time together was rare and usually one or both of them were asleep for a good chunk of it.

It wasn’t until a few weeks into the semester that they found themselves together in their dorm on a Saturday night. Cas had been invited to a party, but he was tired and had opted to stay behind and just relax. Dean, meanwhile, was doing some research for a particularly boring paper.

“Ughhh...” Cas moaned, sprawled out on his bed, head flopped over the side and legs up on the wall, “I’m so bored...”

“Why don’t you go to that party?” asked Dean.

“Don’t wanna,” replied Cas.

“Alright, then I don’t know what to tell you,” Dean said.

“Hang out with me.”

“What?”

“Take a break from that dumb paper. Let’s go get some coffee or something.”

“Oh, uh, I don’t know, I have a lot to do...”

“Cooomeee ooonnnn...” Cas whined.

“I guess I could take half an hour off...”

“Hooray!” yelled Cas, jumping up off the bed, grabbing his cardigan from the back of a chair, and pulling it on all in one swift movement.

“Let me just finish thi-” Dean started, but Cas enthusiastically pulled him off the bed, causing his papers to fly everywhere and his laptop to almost bounce off his bed.

Cas threw Dean’s shoes at him as he pulled on his worn floral Doc Marten’s.

“Let’s go to the coffee shop next to the dining hall. It’s student run but nobody seems to know about it. It’s really nice. I need a latte.”

“Alright,” said Dean, being pulled out the door before his shoes were even double knotted.

They chatted about nothing in particular on their way to the coffee shop, and when they got there, there was no line. The barista was a blonde, tired-looking sophomore named Natalie.

“What can I get you, sir?” she asked Cas.

“Hi, can I get a grande vanilla bean latte with two non-sugar sweeteners and extra milk? No, wait, actually. Is the milk organic?”

“Um...yeah, I think so?” she said. She leaned behind the counter to read the carton and turned back to Cas, nodding.

“Organic from a local farm, or did some dairy farm in buttfuck nowhere just throw the word ‘organic’ on the carton and expect it to count?” Natalie looked startled.

“I...I don’t know, sir,” she admitted.

“Alright, never mind on the milk, then. Just a grade vanilla bean latte with two non-sugar sweeteners. Decaf, and put it in a to-go cup,” he turned to Dean and explained, “We’ll drink them here, I just don’t particularly like mugs.”

“Alright...” she said, punching the order into the computer. Then she turned to Dean. “And for you, sir?”

“Oh, um, just a small hot chocolate.”

“Whipped cream?”

“Sure.” Cas rolled his eyes dramatically and pulled his wallet out as she punched in the order, making Dean chuckle to himself as he reached for his wallet. Cas waved his hand, silently telling Dean not to worry about it. Dean was surprised, but he wasn’t about to argue with a free drink.

“Alright, can I get a name for the order?” asked Natalie.

They gave their names (Castiel, of course, spelling his out for her, as people like him tend to do) and sat at a table by the window. They waited for their drinks, and Cas looked Dean right in the eye.

“So, do you want to know why I really stayed home from the party tonight?” asked Cas after a moment. Dean looked surprised. He had assumed Cas was just tired and had decided to have a night in.

“Uh, sure,” he said.

“I wanted to see you.”

“What?”

Just then, their names were called, and Cas got up to get the drinks, waving to Dean to stay seated. Dean fidgeted uncomfortably for the few seconds it took Cas to cross the small shop and grab the mug and the white paper cup that held their orders. When he returned to the table, he made a gallant bow after placing the drinks down.

“Your drink, sir,” he said extravagantly. Dean laughed, but instantly stopped when he saw a few people looking at them. He turned a little red, then, and his laugh trailed off awkwardly. Dean didn’t like attention too much.

Cas took the hint and sat down, taking a big sip of his complicated beverage. Dean blew on his hot chocolate, and stared at Cas curiously.

“What do you mean, you wanted to see me?” he asked. Cas laughed.

“What do you mean, what do I mean? I mean I wanted to see you, you asshat.”

“I get that, but I guess what I’m asking is, I don’t know...why?”

“You interest me,” stated Cas, very matter-of-factly.

Dean let out a guffaw in surprise.

“On what planet am I, of all people, interesting? Especially to someone like you!”

“Someone like me?” asked Cas, amused.

“Yes, someone like you,” said Dean, “Someone who orders fancy coffee and goes to parties and has dozens of equally interesting friends and doesn’t come from the buttfuck nowhere that makes milk you don’t approve of.”

“Hmm...” said Cas, leaning back in his chair and observing Dean softly. Dean fidgeted for a moment before continuing.

“I just mean, how could someone who comes from, and I quote you directly here, ‘all over the place’ find someone from Kansas to be of any interest?”

“It’s not where you’re from that interests me, Dean. Where you’re from doesn’t define you. In my eyes, at least, what matters is where you’re going.”

“How do you mean?” asked Dean, leaning in ever-so-slightly closer to Cas.

“When I look at you, I don’t see a kid from Kansas. What I see is a guy who’s going places and is willing to work hard to get there. It isn’t your past that interests me. It’s what you’re making from the hand you were dealt. Yesterday is over, and it doesn’t define you, it just nudges you in the direction of now and tomorrow and every day after that. Whether or not you follow that nudge is up to you. It’s your choice whether or not your yesterday was important.”

Dean sat back and contemplated what Cas was saying. He nodded.

“I, personally,” Cas continued, “embrace the idea of yesterday. No matter where you turn, there is only one constant, and good, bad, or indifferent, that constant is you and your yesterday. It’s like a security blanket. Even if your yesterday was the worst time of your life, it’s still written in stone. It’s over and there’s no changing it. It’s a constant in the only way that something can really be constant, and I find that comforting in a weird way. I don’t know. I find comfort in knowing that yesterday is always there, and I strive to be the person that, yesterday, I hoped I would be today. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” said Dean, nodding. Cas was so endlessly fascinating to him. Even though there were some holes in his logic, it was still interesting to talk to someone who seemed to have himself so figured out.

“And so,” Cas concluded, “I propose a toast.” He raised his paper cup, and Dean followed suit with his mug.

“And what are we toasting?” asked Dean, grinning.

“Yesterday,” answered Cas.

“Well then,” said Dean, “To yesterday.”

They touched their drinks together and each took a large sip. They stayed in that coffee shop talking until, around eleven, the barista told them it was time to close up. On the way back to their room, they were silent, but they walked hand in hand, which said more than words ever could have.


End file.
